Chapter 27

“These are… mine?”

“Yes,” Yu Jeong-ham replied politely. “Would you like to try on the shoes as well?”

Geum Seoul blinked in a daze of wonder, his eyes glued to the clothing and sneakers laid out neatly before him. The woven cotton looked so remarkably soft and fine that he had to hesitate three times before daring to brush a trembling fingertip against the fabric of the T-shirt.

The day he had been bundled into the helicopter, Geum Seoul had been brought directly to this residence. And the instant he crossed the threshold, he had nearly fainted from sheer astonishment. The living room was so impossibly vast and breathtaking that he couldn’t tear his gaze from the tiled walls and polished floors whose natural stone veining resembled intricate brushstrokes. One accent wall was finished entirely in rich wood paneling, dominated by an enormous canvas painting that swallowed almost the whole expanse, while sculptural concrete planters housing miniature trees stood arranged at elegant intervals.

And that was only the corridor bordering the living area. Tall doorways stretched nearly to the ceiling along the halls, and the private bedroom beyond them was lavish enough to leave Geum Seoul staring with his mouth slightly open.

Yu Jeong-ham called out into the air, “Vexa, brighten the lights a little.”

— “Understood. Luminance increased by twenty percent.”

At Yu Jeong-ham’s directive, an automated voice had chimed from the discreet speakers, and the entire apartment had brightened by another degree. Artificial intelligence home automation was something Geum Seoul had only ever read about in discarded newspaper scraps, never experienced firsthand, to the point that on his very first day he had pressed his nose against the sleek black grille of the speaker in pure curiosity.

It was a home unlike anything he had ever witnessed in his life. Naturally, Bunhong had often prattled on about how astronomically wealthy people lived in the upper sectors of Seoul, but he had never imagined a place could be this magnificent.

The mattress, too, was so absurdly plush and yielding that even after three full days, his body had yet to adapt; he would awaken in sudden, violent starts from recurring nightmares of plummeting off sheer cliffs. A floor-to-ceiling window spanned one wall of the bedroom, yet Yu Jeong-ham had strictly warned him never to draw the curtains under any circumstances, so he had not dared to pull them aside even once.

“Are you finished changing?” Yu Jeong-ham asked.

While Geum Seoul was changing his shirt, Yu Jeong-ham had kept his back turned respectfully. Smoothing down the hem of the clean T-shirt—which hung slightly loose on his slender frame yet felt blissfully comfortable—Geum Seoul answered with a quiet yes and bent forward. He slipped his feet into the pristine white sneakers. Though a fraction roomy, the snow-white shoes were so stunning that he swallowed a dry lump of awe.

“Mm. The clothes seem to be the right size, but the sneakers are about one size too large,” Yu Jeong-ham assessed, eyeing his feet. “One size down and they should fit perfectly.”

Seoul looked up hesitantly. “How much… do these cost?”

“…The price?” Yu Jeong-ham asked, blinking in mild surprise.

“Yes.”

“Well, who knows? I wouldn’t know the exact figure either,” Yu Jeong-ham offered an easy smile.

Bending low at his feet, Yu Jeong-ham pressed a thumb against the toe box of the sneaker, prompting Geum Seoul to slip down from the sofa and crouch beside him on the floor. For a fleeting moment, both grown men found themselves kneeling in an awkward, symmetrical squat upon the parquet. Realizing that even having someone kneel before him to check his shoe size was deeply disorienting for the youth, Yu Jeong-ham straightened up first. Only then did Geum Seoul climb awkwardly back onto the sofa, slipping the sneakers off and setting them neatly side by side.

“Doesn’t it feel stifling in here?” Yu Jeong-ham asked gently.

Seoul tilted his head, genuinely perplexed. “In what way?”

“…”

Seeing that the boy genuinely had no idea what could possibly feel stifling about such luxury, Yu Jeong-ham merely nodded. Geum Seoul was a creature accustomed to exceptionally narrow boundaries. Three days had passed since he was brought here, yet he had not once stepped outside the designated rooms unless someone led him.

‘…Why did you bring me here, though?’

Asking that fundamental question on his first night was the extent of his inquiry. In truth, Yu Jeong-ham hadn’t possessed the faintest clue what his superior was thinking at the time and could only follow orders, offering the vague deferral: ‘He’ll explain everything in a few days, so could you wait patiently until then?’ And that had been that. Without any concrete timeline given, Geum Seoul had remained quietly confined within the walls for three straight days without a single complaint.

“You remember you can ask Vexa to play movies, right?” Yu Jeong-ham reminded him warmly. “And feel free to read any of the books on the shelving unit.”

Seoul bowed his head politely. “I will. Thank you very much.”

Watching Geum Seoul spring to his feet as if to see him off to the door, Yu Jeong-ham waved a hand to tell him not to bother, turned on his heel, and strode across the living room.

Scrambling that helicopter had been an extraordinarily abrupt maneuver. In truth, calling it a mere helicopter was an understatement; it was an ultra-high-speed transport aircraft modified for covert extraction, which meant every airborne deployment inevitably logged a record at police headquarters. Yet Gwichang had scrambled it without warning in the dead of night, precisely when Noh Pil-gyu was glaring with predatory suspicion—and while they were deep in a high-stakes campaign to take Noh down.

While Gwichang’s rank and clearance theoretically authorized deployment, the timing was perilous. It coincided exactly with a late-night summit between Noh Pil-gyu and Gwak Chun-young, who operated virtually joined at the hip. If Noh caught wind of an unscheduled tactical sortie, suspicion would ignite instantly. Naturally, to reinforce the cover story of routine reconnaissance, the craft had flown several evasive detours carrying only Yu Jeong-ham once the primary objective was secured, yet the operation had run razor-close to disaster.

Furthermore, Gwichang had already planted an insurance policy back in that shantytown before departing.

‘Senior!’

Back when they were stationed in the village, Bae Seo-woo had sought out Yu Jeong-ham at the crack of dawn after concluding his perimeter sweep, his face slightly flushed with adrenaline.

‘Yeah. What orders did the Deputy Director give you?’

‘He told me to stay behind. To pose as a gemstone omega and lie low on the second floor.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes. Code Inferno.’

‘What?’

‘This is my very first solo assignment, Senior—I’m so thrilled! What do I do? Do you think I can pull it off?’

Still a junior operative who had only participated in collective tactical maneuvers, Bae Seo-woo had beamed with excitement at his first solo posting, yet Yu Jeong-ham’s face had clouded with worry. Leaving an operative who wasn’t even a true gemstone behind in a neighborhood whose utility was finished felt like an utterly baffling directive.

Regardless, Bae Seo-woo had carried out his superior’s instructions to the letter, infiltrating the second floor as a gemstone omega and successfully capturing Park Gil-pyeong alive.

Setting everything else aside and looking strictly at the timeline, the Ghost’s intuition was nothing short of miraculous. The very day after Gwichang pulled them out, Gwak Chun-young’s syndicates had raided Geum Seoul’s neighborhood, tearing it apart. Had they not extracted Park Gil-pyeong and Geum Seoul a day earlier, both would have been dragged before Gwak Chun-young, spilling everything under torture. Park Gil-pyeong was an ignorant buffoon who knew nothing of consequence, but Geum Seoul was deeply entangled in their operations and had stayed at Gwichang’s safehouse; his capture would have been catastrophic.

In any case, Gwichang had spent the past several days immersed in an entirely separate project to deflect Noh Pil-gyu’s suspicion. Feigning dedicated subservience to whatever nonsensical busywork Noh assigned was the only way to keep the peace and prevent the corrupt director from throwing a tantrum.

Click.

Yu Jeong-ham stepped out, and the massive front entrance sealed shut behind him. Sitting on the sofa with his neck craned until the door clicked fully into its frame, Geum Seoul slowly pinched the collar of his T-shirt, pulling it upward. Burying his nose into the fabric, he caught not the slightest trace of Gwichang’s scent.

—‘We’re going to my place.’

Inside the roaring cabin of the helicopter, when he couldn’t even force his eyes open from terror, the man had spoken those words to him. That they were going to his house. Which meant this apartment where he now stayed was Gwichang’s personal home.

Truthfully, he would have known even without being told; it was unmistakable. Drifting faintly throughout the rooms was the same scent he had smelled in the bedding of Gwichang’s temporary quarters. It was so wonderfully pleasant that Geum Seoul had secretly caught himself thinking how incredible it would be to live here every single day.

Yet sadly, Geum Seoul was someone who drew a sharp line between wishful fantasy and harsh reality. He understood better than anyone that such dreams were impossible. He had been brought here purely out of necessity, receiving the man’s protection as a byproduct of circumstance. Though he didn’t comprehend the complex mechanics of what had transpired, one truth was unequivocal: had Gwichang not appeared in that second-floor hallway, Park Gil-pyeong would have brutally violated him on the floor.

“I need to thank him properly, and there are things I want to say…” Seoul murmured to the quiet room.

If permission were granted, there were questions he desperately wished to ask as well. Yet the man who had brought him here had walked out the door that very night and hadn’t shown his face for three days. If they met again, he would bow and express his deepest gratitude, and then… That was where his thoughts invariably stalled. Could he ever return to that neighborhood? The boss would never let him live. Would he simply be beaten to death for having deceived everyone with a fake face all these years?

He stared into the quiet living room in troubled silence. “…”

Abruptly, the memory of those doors clicking shut behind Park Gil-pyeong’s massive back flashed through his mind. Every resident on the second floor had undoubtedly realized what was happening in the corridor. Park Gil-pyeong had fully intended to rape him right there against the floorboards; his venomous pheromones had shouted that intent aloud.

Bunhong had closed his door, and Rin’s eyes had met his through the crack. Rin’s face had been etched with sheer astonishment. Presumably because he was an entirely fake creature.

He hadn’t felt betrayed or hurt. From the very beginning, Geum Seoul had never expected anyone to intervene on his behalf. The other omegas on the second floor, including Rin and Bunhong, relied on Park Gil-pyeong for shelter and survival. Provoking the violent brute would have invited ruin upon themselves.

Blinking up at the high ceiling, Geum Seoul curled his knees against his chest before his melancholy thoughts could spiral any further. Once I say thank you, I’ll have to step back outside. If he wandered the alleys, perhaps some odd job would present itself. While he told himself there was bound to be an errand to run somewhere, the desolate uncertainty weighed heavy on his chest. Slowly closing his fluttering eyes, he shivered slightly; as though the sweltering furnace outside had never existed, a continuous stream of chilled air flowed from the vents, occasionally prickling his skin with goosebumps.

—‘Your arm.’

The very first thing the man had done upon setting him down in this apartment was administer an injection. Seoul had received their medication twice before, and recalling how rapidly his fever and nausea had subsided each time, it was clear the vials contained remarkably potent, expensive drugs.

Curling smaller into himself, he let out a tiny sigh. With his arms wrapped tight around his shins, his tilted field of vision filled with his own forearms, yet the angry red blotches had vanished without a trace. While no longer sweating in the heat surely helped, the injection was almost certainly responsible. The ankle that had throbbed from grappling with Park Gil-pyeong didn’t ache either. Just as before, every speck of heat rash across his body had disappeared completely—even if the relief had been temporary back then.

Unable to resolve even a single one of the questions drifting through his head, Geum Seoul closed his fluttering eyelids. As soon as his thoughts trailed off, deep stillness settled over the already silent apartment. Without even attempting to fight it off, he sank straight into slumber.